Calleth You, Cometh I
by Clarkeyfangirl
Summary: A multi-chapter fic which starts on the evening of NYD 2010. What might happen if the events would have taken a slightly different turn after the wedding? Read and enjoy!/xxx
1. Chapter 1

**This is the opening chapter of what is planned to be my first multi-chapter fic (if you all like it ;) ). It explores what might happen if things would have taken a slightly different turn after NYD 2010. This first chapter is set in Christian's flat on the evening after Syed and Amira's wedding, so consider yourselves warned ;p.**

**The title and the quote is borrowed from the song Calleth you, Cometh I by the Swedish band The Ark.**

**No copyright infringement intended - characters belong to BBC and EastEnders **

**Biggest thanks and a huge *mwwwaaahh* to ****LoveSy**** for being an excellent Beta and a generally lovely and encouraging person. /xxx**

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

_And I know that what we had  
>Would not be called love by the ones who know<em>

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

Breathe in. Breathe out. See. You can do it, Christian. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep doing that and you'll be fine. Breathe in. Breathe out.

It is so dark. I know it's New Years Day, middle of winter and it's supposed to be dark but I feel like it's never been darker. The darkness is pressing against my eyes and my brain and I feel a splitting headache coming on. I haven't turned any lights on in my flat. I don't want to. I don't want to see. I don't want to be seen. I want to hide and never be found again.

Almost an hour has passed since I got back here and I'm still sitting on the floor of my hallway with my back against the wall, not able to make my legs carry me any further. I didn't know I could be this tired and still be alive.

I am so tired. Tired of trying to smile when I clearly can't. Tired of crying. Tired of having to look like I'm not falling apart. Tired of constantly having to remind myself to breathe.

There is no recollection in my mind of how I got home tonight. Actually, my memories of most things that happened today are blurry at best. Except him. Him I remember. Him I see as sharply and clearly before my eyes as if he was actually standing here right now. I see him the way he looked today, in his traditional clothing, hair brushed back from his face. Looking as stunningly gorgeous as ever. And I see him as he has looked a hundred other times. Shining like always. Like the beautiful star he is. If I close my eyes I see him. If I open my eyes… I still see him. Close and yet so, so far away. My mind assaults me with countless pictures of him. My lips feel the soft, warm skin of his forehead. The palms of my hands feel his cheeks, as if I was still holding them. But he is not here. Will never be here again. The tears are threatening to start falling again.

Crying. What does it help? Nothing. Yet it seems like I haven't been doing much else today. I really don't want to shed any more tears, but I can't stop them. At least now that I'm alone I don't have to pretend. I can finally let my guard down, I can let myself feel the full force of what has happened. I wrap my arms around myself in some futile attempt to protect what little of me there is left, close my eyes and lean my head back.

Nothing could have prepared me for hurt quite like this. Over and over again I thought that it could not possibly get any worse. I thought so as I left him in the café, as I spoke to Zainab and as I walked into that room to watch him get married. And still… there would always be something more… something adding to the pain. I am completely amazed that no one else seems to have noticed it, it must surely have been written all over my face. I know I felt it. All day.

I don't know what possessed me to meet him in the café to begin with. What was I thinking, I wonder. What good could ever come out of that? Did I really think that seeing me would somehow change his mind? Hah, I must be even more stupid than I already knew I was. He told me, time and time again, that this was how it was going to end. Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I just run away when I had the chance? What on earth made me first come back from Barcelona and then go there and rub my own face in it today? What? I know what. Love. Simple as that, really.

As I'm sitting here in the dark, I can recall the moment when he did say it… '_I'm gay… and I love you'_ and I heard the honesty in his voice… And I didn't push him this time, I didn't, he said it himself… I know he meant it… and yet it can't be enough…_ I_ can't be enough. When that realization hit me, it hurt so much that I couldn't help shouting at him, asking him why the hell he came there anyway. And then he told me. '_Because I missed you. Because I wanted to see you. Because I hoped you might say it's all OK…_' If I only listen I can still hear the plea in his voice. Hearing it hurts every bit as much right now. But I couldn't say it, I couldn't pretend and I told him so. It was never going to be OK again.

When I came to the hotel for the wedding ceremony I thought I wanted to stop it. A part of me wanted everyone to know, wanted to shout the truth out to them like I did to Zainab earlier, wanted this to be recognized for what it was. Is. Love. I don't think I've loved him more than when I stepped into that room and saw him there, with her. Love for him filled my entire being in a fraction of a second. So naturally I couldn't do it, just couldn't. Of course it had to be his choice, his decision. I vaguely remember my knees almost giving in when I realized I'd have to see him go through with it. I am honestly surprised that I survived that. My first instinct was to make a run for it afterwards, to flee, but… everything just seemed to gang up on me and I couldn't get out. Masood came just as I was leaving, all smiles on the wedding day of his eldest son, dragging me back inside to the reception, amazingly not seeing the truth in my eyes… And Peter with the gift, making me walk up to them… And then Zainab came to shove me out… In the end it was Jane that saved me. When she came after me I thought she was going to scold me, like I probably deserve to be scolded in her eyes. But she just put her arms around me, and for a little while I remembered how you breathe again.

Then he came to see me… just as I was about to finally get out of there. Making his attempt of a little almost joke while looking at me with those huge eyes, scared, brimming with tears. Letting me see everything he felt shining through in that adored face once more, letting me hear his voice. Looking and sounding so fragile. If I had ever thought that it was not going to be just as difficult for him as for me, that taught me the truth. The truth of his pain. Then I knew for sure it couldn't get any worse, and that thought made something click inside me. Suddenly there was no hesitation, I knew what he needed. I have no idea where I got the strength to do it, to say it. To say the words that mean goodbye. That mean letting go. But I did. I found it somewhere and I told him it would all be OK and kissed him for the last time. It was all I could do for him and I did it.

Right now, however, I have no strength left what so ever, still slumped down on the floor of my hallway, eyes closed to the darkness surrounding me, still in my suit, arms wrapped around me like my life depended on it.

I don't want anyone to see this. No one can do anything for me now. Jane did what she could, and besides her, Lucy is the only one who knows and there is no way I could put all of this on her. This is my burden to carry, and mine alone.

There is Zainab of course. She knows now, knows because of me, because I said it. Because I screwed up. My usual style, I think bitterly. I hardly remember what I said to her, except that I blurted out the truth. I remember her words though. Every single one of them, and there were plenty. In the end I couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hear her saying one more word about the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I know I shouldn't have said anything, really, really shouldn't, but I literally could not stop myself. _'Perverted obsession.' 'It makes me feel sick!' 'People like you!' 'Predatory…' 'Love? You don't know the meaning of the word!_'…

I guess everybody has a breaking point, and this was mine. It was just too much. I wonder what happened after I told him she knew? What did he say to her? Convinced her it was a lie most likely, but I have no idea. I don't know if she believed him, I could spot the fakeness in the smiles on her face, feel the daggers her eyes shot at me. If I had any illusions left, illusions of some kind of happy ending, they are clearly shattered now.

As everything is shattered. Absolutely everything. Everything except what I feel for him. That feeling is more whole than it has ever been. Because it is love. I know it is. What else could possibly hurt like this? I smirk through the tears now flowing freely from my eyes. Congratulations, Christian, welcome to the world of love, isn't it fabulous? But I know I did the right thing, it was the only thing I could do. How I am going to survive this love-thing is another question entirely. I manage to roll my eyes a little and smirk again. Always the drama queen, me.

Tomorrow, I think to myself. Tomorrow I'll do it, then I'll do what I have to. In the back of my mind a plan is taking form. For tomorrow. Tonight I'll let myself cry.

Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do it.

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

**Thank you for bearing with me thus far!**

**Should I continue this? Would you like to know more? Let me know! Love those reviews and comments! / xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much, my wonderful, wonderful reviewers, I honestly love you all ; ) xxx**

**This is the second chapter *eeek*… It's still a bit 'setting the mood', so not much action. There will be a little more actually happening later… maybe. It is from Syed's POV, so… wedding night alert ;p!**

**The quote is again from the song Calleth You, Cometh I by The Ark.**

**I really want to thank ****Jenn**** a little bit extra for the lovely encouragement when it was very much needed. Laaarve ya! xxx**

**And**** LoveSy****, hun, where would I be without your support and betaing, going way, way above and beyond… /xxxxx**

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

_And I know we became restrained  
>Every time we were among friends<em>

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

I knew this was how it had to end… I was always going to marry… but I am shaking… I feel like I'm fading away…

It is late, far too late. It's the middle of the night and I am so exhausted, more exhausted than I can remember ever being. I should get to sleep but I know it's no use trying, it won't happen. Amira is in bed, hopefully finally asleep, and I am sitting in the bathroom of the luxury hotel suite where we're spending our wedding night. Some wedding night… I laugh just a tiny bit at how pathetic I am… I tried, I honestly did. And she did too… looked beautiful, I could see that… smelled delicious, I know…doing everything right, everything she's supposed to... but the closer we got to actually… the more I even thought of touching her anywhere near like I'm expected to, the tighter my throat felt, the more uncomfortable I was, the more I questioned it… What am I doing to her? Is this the way it's going to feel… forever? All I could hear was _wrong, wrong, wrong_ screaming inside my head and I panicked. Time… I needed time… Time would… will sort it out… What I told her, what kind of ridiculous 'tired-we'll-try-tomorrow'-excuse I made to get out and wait here until she was asleep, I hardly remember**. **I doubt she believed me and I don't know what I'll tell her tomorrow, but here I am.

Then again, I don't remember much of what happened today. Mostly it's nothing but a stream of faces and colours and noise to me. I guess I must have said the right things, done what I was supposed to, looked the part I was supposed to play but I can't recall it. I can't remember the colour of my mother's clothes or the expression on my father's face as I got married. I can't because all I see is his face, burned into my mind. All I hear is his broken voice… No! No, no, no, no, no… don't want to remember… can't think of that… My hands fly up to my head to try and seize control of my thoughts again.

Smiles have been on my face all day and there's nothing left inside me. My face and my lips don't feel like mine, don't feel like they're real. Nothing has felt real today, it's like everything happened to someone else, like I was watching it on TV. I have been like some mechanical toy that automatically keeps going.

It's strange, but I haven't felt anything most of the day, it's like I'm frozen. I don't know what chilled me the most. It could have been the sound of his voice as he told me he couldn't pretend it was all going to be OK. It could have been the look in my mother's eyes as she realized the truth, or her backing away from my touch. It could also have been the sight of him, walking away, having seen his eyes before he turned around.

The one thing I know for sure is that I can't relax. Never, ever let my guard down. Always keep the mask on, always check everything you say or do one, two, three times before you say or do it. Always, always, always. It has been my life for so long I hardly know anything else. I only know, more than ever before, one thing. No one can know. I have seen what will happen when they do.

I vaguely remember talking to my mother, only really recalling the expression on her face… the one of disbelief... complete horror… as she realized what I had said… I told her everything… I was shocked when the truth shot out of my mouth, but she couldn't talk about him like that, couldn't call him… And then I begged her to help, tell me what to do… and she… Stop! Can't think of it… Can't… My hands press even harder against my head, willing the nothingness to return again… Now she knows and showed me in every way possible what she thought of me… couldn't look at me, backed away from me like I disgusted her. It was so evident… her detest… I have been alone before, I know I can survive that, horrible as it was. But it wasn't like this…Turns out loneliness feels a lot different when your mother stands right in front of you looking at you like that. Saying, without words, that you'll be forever outside of her love. Outside of the love of everyone you know. What is the right thing to do then?

There have been so many people everywhere, staring at me all day, and I have never felt more invisible. Hidden behind the wall inside me. Surrounded by all these people who can't even see me. Don't want to see me. The more people I have around me, the more alone, less real I am. I feel like it is so obvious… that everyone should see the mask I'm wearing, the fakeness of the never ending smiles, the falseness in the jokes I try to make… Everyone should see the difference between this 'Syed' that everybody is looking at, the one I show to the world, the only Syed that is allowed to be seen… and the one that's hiding behind, the Syed that can't exist… that no one can see, ever. And yet no one seems to notice. Why?

They say they love me, that they want what's good for me. My father has even said that he is proud of me. That's what I have dreamed of, what I have hoped for forever… But I have seen the truth now. It's not me they love. It's not me they're proud of. It's only the Syed they think I am they love and are proud of.

Only he is different. He knows the truth of me and still wants me, still cares for me. And he is the one that had to go. I want to bang my head against the very elegant, no doubt very expensive, Jacuzzi right in front of me until I can't remember that moment. But naturally I can't do that and as I curl up as tightly as I can, knees pressed against my chest, making myself small enough to vanish, nothing stops me from remembering.

For a moment when he walked into the room, I thought he was going to do it, shout it out to everyone, stop the whole wedding. I saw what he thought and what he felt so clearly on his face, and I will never know how everyone else did not. But then I could see how he kept everything in, retreated, tried to play the part as the colleague and good friend of the family that he is to everybody else. I actually saw something close up inside of him. A door slammed shut behind his eyes and even if he was there, something just… disappeared… died. I can swear I felt the floor shake when I saw that. And then… everything continued… like nothing happened. Like something inside me hadn't died too.

I had to, just had to, see him again even if I had no idea what to do or what to say. He was just about to leave, probably thought he had escaped, but I needed to see him again, selfish as I am. I couldn't stand not talking to him one more time. I was so scared, I don't even know of what, and I needed to draw strength from him. I hate myself for doing that to him, but I had to. So I tried to mumble a pathetic 'sorry', but he told me not to. And what good would it do anyway? He looked at me quietly for a moment and said it was all OK… I had to believe him even if I knew deep inside we're both lying, and then… he kissed me… and walked away… and I feel it… feel everything. As he left I couldn't even tell which tears on my face were his and which were my own. I saw him go and knew I was sinking and my last lifeline was being cut off. It's what I asked for. What I wanted. No, not wanted, never wanted. I needed it. I needed him to let go.

That doesn't stop me from wishing I hadn't seen what I saw in his face and his eyes, wishing I hadn't had to hear that voice. I looked into those eyes, for one, short second, and couldn't breathe. How could I breathe seeing that? Eyes I have seen sparkle with laughter and shine with desire, now just hollow with a pain that I can't stand even thinking about. Lips I have seen curl with a satisfied or self ironic smile more times than I can count… now trembling and pressed together. The bravest and strongest man I've known never looked smaller or more vulnerable…devastated… crushed… I still feel something so hard and cold squeezing my heart at the thought that it's me doing this to him. I walked into this day on my own, because I decided to, he didn't. No..! Can't think of him… can't... he is not mine to think of, never was.

When he was gone I realized that the one person who actually sees me, knows me and still cares, is out of my life. I barely registered Amira coming up to me, quickly hiding the tears almost falling again. I didn't have the time to hide the 'sadness' she saw though. Always hiding. It hit me right then and there. I am absolutely alone. No one is left that knows me. I never knew before how much I depended on him being the one person, the one place, where I didn't have to keep that wall up, that mask on at all times, on him being the one that knew, the one that saw… He will never do that again. I felt something break inside me. Alone… I didn't truly understand what that meant until today. If no one sees you… do you even exist?

Later I tried talking to my mother again, break the loneliness I felt. I didn't mean to hurt her any more… hurt myself any more. I longed for her to say I did something good, that somehow this hurt would be… not worth it… but worth something. I wanted to tell her I think I did the right thing… I wanted her to hug me like… a mother, but she could hardly even touch me. She wanted nothing to do with it, nothing to do with me, even if she said she loved me. If I had any illusions about what would happen if anyone knew, those are now long gone. She told me it would pass, that it would fade into nothing… Nothing? I can't help but snort a little at the memory. I lean my head back against the cool marble wall behind me.

I should be looking at the woman in the bed in our suite. My wife. I should be thinking mind numbingly happy thoughts of how lucky I am to have her… just having married her… the wedding night and… I should, I absolutely should. A honeymoon in a beautiful resort on the Maldives. It's all anyone could ever wish for really. And it's tomorrow… Why am I so scared? It will be wonderful. It will be what I dreamed of, what she dreamed of. It has to be. _Wrong, wrong, wrong,_ a voice inside my head whispers, but I can't think of that, I can't. I should feel like the luckiest man in the world, the happiest man on earth. I just got married. I have a stunningly gorgeous wife who I care very much about and who loves me. _What are you doing to her? _The thought flashes through my head again. I've done what I'm supposed to do. I have done what is right towards everyone around me… _Towards __them__?_ my head accuses me and I squeeze my eyes shut. _I didn't mean to,_ I whisper to the air, _forgive me.._. _both of you_…

I have to do it. Walk the road that is ahead of me, take one step after another and do it. Deal with the 'now' and not think, that is the only way. Try harder, always try harder. So I will. Not look back. Never look back. Not look ahead. Never look ahead. Tomorrow… No, push that out… I'll deal with that then. Try again… soon… not now. Now I need to get up from the floor. It is late, far too late. Always the guard up. Always the mask on. Always think before you do or say anything… one, two, three times. Hide behind the wall. Always.

Finally I manage to get on my unsteady feet and find myself in front of the mirror… I don't know who that is looking back at me and I can't look into his eyes. Numbly I run my fingers over my face, that spot on my forehead… my arms, my chest and stomach… over and over again… to see if I actually exist. Or if I'm fading away.

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

**Thank you for being with me all the way here. Greedy author as I am, I'd absolutely LOVE to hear what you think of it. ****And if you want to know more… /xxx **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so very much for reviewing, favouriting and putting this on alert. That really means so much! **

**LoveSy****, hun, you have been brilliant, brilliant, brilliant as usual, saving my skin this time ;p ;D /xxx**

**I'm still keeping close if not exactly to canon, but events are about to soon take a little turn. In the third chapter we're back at Christian's flat… **

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

_And you're not the one that I think of_

_Every time that the telephone rings_

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

The insistent buzzing on the street door three or four times a day is one of the things I have quickly learned to ignore over the last three days. This time I don't even lift my head. Another thing I completely ignore is the phone that I've had turned off ever since Friday night, except for that one text I sent to Jane on Sunday morning ('Stop coming over. No need to talk. I'm OK.' Aren't I a wonderful brother?). But I can't deal with her right now. I'm too busy. Too busy not thinking about him. Too busy not looking at my turned off phone. Too busy trying to teach my head to overpower the feelings I have. Turning the phone off has had numerous advantages, actually. One being the fact that I don't have to hear the repeated ringing and see Jane's or Lucy's numbers on the screen knowing they'll pity me. Another one is that I don't have to hear the ringing and not see… his number, knowing I'll never see that number calling me again. But I don't think of him, of course I don't, what point is there in thinking of that anymore? Thinking of him? None at all, I'm going to move on with my life. I made that decision at some point during the last few days. I'm done with this. I fell in love, I can fall out again. Wonder how long it will take? If I've learned anything here it's that I'm no good with that, with love. Always screw it up. This love I feel for him is the only thing that is whole inside me, but it's too much, I can't take it. I need to be back to old Christian again, and I will. These last six months will be forgotten. I ignore the little person inside my head who shakes his imaginary head and tells me that's not possible, that something has changed since then. Since him. Ouch… there's that headache again.

Why is there still buzzing on the door? It's not like I need anyone to come and help me or anything. Honestly. _I can take care of myself, thank you very much. _I growl at the sound of the buzzer invading my head. Decidedly I push away the very unwelcome thought that my head is this bad because it hurts from not sleeping more than a few hours over the last three nights since I have been... _Not thinking about that, I'm doing better. _I am! I had a shower on Saturday evening and a toast to eat Sunday afternoon. Big progress. I'm OK, absolutely OK. Going to be. Eventually. What is not OK however is that the buzzing doesn't stop this time. And even further from OK are the steps on the stairs and the turning of a key in the door. What the…?

'Christian…?' the voice of my sister cuts through the dizziness surrounding my brain. Every instinct I have tells me I should hide, that she shouldn't see me like this, that she saw too much at the reception already. She'll worry about me for some reason and… be here. I don't want anybody to be here. Why can't people understand that I need my privacy? Why do they think I need pampering and holding hands? I want no one to be here. I want to be here in quiet, alone, not thinking about him.

'Christian!' Jane says again as she walks through the door into the flat, and I have no choice but to lift my head a few inches off my pillow.

'What are you doing barging in like this? I'm having the locks changed…' I try to shout at her but my voice is really strange. Possibly because I haven't actually used it since Friday.

'Good, you're alive…' I swear I hear how she rolls her eyes at me, ignoring my words. I turn to her to tell her to go away and I hear her breath catch as she sees me.

'I don't want you here! Don't you ever just walk in here like that…' I try to continue, but I stop when I see her eyes welling up.

'Oh… Christian…' she whispers, clearly forgetting all irritation she'd felt before. She sits down on the bed and squeezes my shoulder. Just like that, I feel everything again. This is exactly why I don't want her here. I don't want to feel anymore. She sits there for a few minutes, completely silent, knowing that I don't want to hear anything. Slowly I feel myself relax a little, I hadn't even noticed how tense I was. Then she decides it's time to tell me why she's really here.

'Christian? I need you at Masala Queen today…' she says and I actually flinch at the mere name of the place, how pathetic. 'Zainab and Masood are away doing a function… and Sy…' she stops herself almost in time but I still feel the punch in the gut. '… he is not here. It'll just be you and me, and I really need your help. Please...' She keeps her hand firmly on my shoulder, and strangely enough I find the warmth of it rather comforting.

'I'd be useless, sis…' I mumble, still not used to that strange voice I seem to have.

'You'd be a pair of hands… You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an emergency… please…'

'Look, Jane, I really don't want anyone to see… you know… this. I'm OK… really!' I add as I see the questioning look in her eyes. 'I just don't feel like... having people look at me… meeting anyone.'

' I get that, Christian, really, but like I said, it'll be you and me there, and no one else is gonna come in. Please, I'd owe you so much! And you know… you could really use a few hours out of this place. '

She's clearly on a mission here, and I know she won't quit until I have agreed to it. I suppose it is her way of helping out.

'OK, I'll get there in a bit' I sigh, feeling nauseated at the thought of being at that place. I feel like I'm walking straight into the lion's den, but Jane promised that it would only be the two of us, so how bad can it be?

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

An hour later we're both at the Unit. I would have been here earlier but I spent more than half an hour trying to get the courage to walk through my door. I could just feel everyone staring at me already. Pointing and laughing at stupid Christian, falling in love, thinking he'll get his happily ever after. Finally I managed to shake my head. _Just get over yourself, you idiot, who do you think is interested in your pathetic broken heart? No one, no one even knows… _I'm not sure whether that fact is a good or a horrible thing, but I decided it was about time to show Albert square what Christian Clarke is really made of, took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

Practically running to Masala Queen, I couldn't help keeping my head down, praying I wouldn't meet anyone. I laughed just a bit at myself, big brave man I am, really, but there was no way I could cope with meeting anyone. The relief I felt when I could close the door behind me was immense, shutting the world out again. At the unit I discovered that it actually helped a little having something to focus on. I volunteered to do the most mind-numbing jobs so I'd lose myself in them, boring chopping and stirring making my head blissfully empty. For a few minutes. I feel Jane's eyes on me every so often but pretend I don't**. **She'd like me to talk, I know that, but I pretend that I don't. I can't deal with any of it, not now. And not here where I can see and hear him everywhere if I just look, just listen. So I don't. I only focus on emptying my head.

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

Jane knew that Christian could feel her looking at him as they worked together, mostly in silence. A few words only concerning work had been exchanged, nothing more. She knew that he could feel her worry, it practically oozed out of her. She also knew that he didn't like it and couldn't handle any concern or compassion right now, however much he needed it. He was nowhere near fine, nowhere near OK. She could sense him bracing himself, trying so hard to keep his façade up, even though she had seen past it on Friday and they both knew it. That moment… shivers still ran down her spine at the thought of the look on her little brother's face and in his eyes then… that moment when he hadn't been able to keep his mask on any longer and she had seen right through him. Looking at him she had realized that he was really, truly falling apart. A part of him had just gone missing and it was the most horrible thing she'd ever seen in Christian. She had been there at a few difficult times in both of their lives before, but it had been nothing like this. What could she do? What could possibly make that desperate and at the same time resigned look go away and bring back her brother? It was like he was there, and still not. She'd never been so scared for him in her whole life.

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

'Christian…' she tentatively starts, not for the first time, hoping she'll get another answer this time.

'Don't… Jane, I really don't want to. I'm here, right? I don't have to talk, do I?'

She won't take that for an answer much longer but I'm saved by a sudden noise. The door suddenly opens and steps come down the stairs. 'Helloo..?'

I feel my whole body tensing up at the sound of that voice and seconds later Zainab is here in the kitchen. In my head I knew I had to see them all, of course, see her again, but I'm not prepared to do it now. My knuckles turn white and my nails dig into my palms as I clench my hands. I keep my back to her, not letting her have the satisfaction of seeing my face right now.

'Jane…' she says as I feel her stare in my back and the air growing really thick in the tiny room. She says nothing more. She's not even going to pretend I'm here, is she? 'So… emm… so how are things going? Have you got everything sorted out for tomorrow?'

'Well yeah… everything 's good and ready, we're just about finished…' Jane says slowly, and I can tell she's confused about where this sudden tension comes from. 'And how are things with you…'

'Well… ' I can hear determination in Zainab's voice, but am not sure what she's after. She takes a breath and I feel her eyes on me again. 'Syed and Amira called from their hotel this morning… You should have heard them, really, they're having the most wonderful time of their lives he said! And I talked to Amira too… I'll tell you, Jane, I have never heard two people so much in love with each other… they sounded positively glowing… '

That's it. That's what she's set out to do. I can do nothing but stand here and try and brace myself. Try not to show that I feel the blows she's about to deal me. I am trapped.

'Oh, that's good… and what…' I hear in her voice that Jane doesn't get what Zainab is aiming at.

'… and I could actually feel their connection through the line,' Zainab interrupts, clearly not finished with me. 'They're so close… so ...together. I'm not sure they have even ventured out of their room yet, if you know what I mean…' I don't see it but I can vividly imagine the 'playful wink' she gives Jane at that. I feel sick.

Zainab continues, allegedly speaking to Jane, but I can feel her still having all her focus on me.

'My boy has never been happier, I can swear it… he wants this so much, I know he does, and maybe, Jane, we'll have something else to celebrate soon…When he has everything he ever wanted… in about nine month's time, you know… '

The breath I've been holding in during most of their talk is audibly knocked out of me. That's one kick more than I am prepared to take, and I am convinced that Zainab fully intended that to hurt as much as possible. With a sudden burst of energy I didn't know I had in me anymore I run out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

'Christian… Christian!' I hear Jane calling after me, but I don't care. I can't take this anymore.

A slam of the door is the last thing I hear, and with that I'm finally free.

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

Another annoying buzzing on the door and I've been home merely ten minutes. I just can't seem to be allowed to have any time on my own. I have to learn not to think of him and I need to deal with the decision I have made, and I have to do it by myself. Of course I know who it is and I shake my head at myself for letting her get too close. Letting her see everything then, even though she possibly saved me, was a mistake, and this morning, allowing her to see… that. I don't want to let her in again. But I know my sister, and this is one of those times she won't leave until we've spoken. Much too like our mother in that department.

Finally I get to the door and let her in. As she takes off her coat I sink down on the sofa and let my head fall back. It's like the trip to the door was a bigger achievement than I had strength for. Jane sits down, careful not to sit too near me as she knows I wouldn't stand her trying to comfort me right now, that I can't bear having anyone close to me. She searches my face but I'm not able to make contact with her eyes. I have no idea what she would see there, I haven't looked at myself properly for more than three days now, but I don't think she'd like it.

'Christian… what was that about?' she asks cautiously.

'What was what about?' I make a halfhearted attempt to stall what I know is coming.

'Oh no, don't you try that, I was there… What's going on here?'

'Look… it's nothing… I just… couldn't take Zainab going on about the happy couple like…' Not knowing what else so say I still try to avoid the real issue.

'Ahh… you know her, she was only doing the usual proud mother of the groom thing… well… Zainab style. '

'Was she… really?'

'You're gonna have to toughen up, Christian.' Her voice is annoyingly soft and caring as she puts her hand on mine. I don't pull away, needing some sort of human contact. 'It happened… you have to deal with that… And think like this… He is gone… you've already gone through the worst, haven't you?'

'Hah… Not if she's got anything to do with it…' It's out of my mouth before I can stop it. I curse myself as I know she'll never let this go.

'Wha… what do you mean?'

'Nothing…' I pull my hand from under her's and rub my hands over my face, trying to compose myself again 'it don't matter… Jane, would you just leave me alone now…'

'No, I won't. Christian, are you saying… she knows something..?'

We sit in silence for a few minutes, but I am under no illusion that I'm being let off the hook. I look up at her as I prepare to bare the enormity of my foolishness.

'Jane, I… I told her everything… I told her on the wedding day.' And I hold my breath for what I know will come.

'Christian! How…? Why the hell did you do that for?' Obviously she can't believe what a fool I am, and I can't blame her. I have to try and explain to her how I couldn't take any more of that… hate… that loathing, just for being who I am.

'I had to! She showed up at your door that morning… like some vengeful … poisonous… just mouthing off… I couldn't help it… the things she said… they were... ' I can still hardly think of them… the words she said, what she called me. I give up my attempts to put those feelings into words and say the one thing that gets my heart every time I think of it. The thing that breaks me. 'And she still let him go through with it...'

'What?' She sounds completely stunned. 'So you're saying she knew… everything? Before? That that was her… rubbing your nose in it then? Well, I'll just tell her what I think of that… I'll tell her tomorrow!'

' Jane, don't… don't. It don't matter anymore anyway. I've made up my mind.'

'Made up...? Made up your mind about what?'

'You know what, Jane…' I realise I have to tell her. I can't not after what she's tried to do for me. Still I can't look into her eyes. ' I've been thinking… Ever since Friday and… now I'm absolutely sure… I ... I need to get out of here, Jane… I can't be here anymore. I've got to go.'

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

**First of all: I hope you liked your birthday present, ****Jenn****, my dear!/x**

**And as always: thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think and if you'd like to know more ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**My dear reviewers and people favouriting, putting on alert or just reading: thank you as always. It means the world to me. /xxx**

**Sorry it's been a while since I updated. This was a difficult chapter to write, for many reasons, so I am feeling nervous about getting it out into the big bad world, but ****LoveSy**** ( ;) ), hun, you helped immensely as always. *mmmwwwaaahhh***

**Oh, and… ahemm… Amira alert :O**

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

_And that's just how it is  
>And how it's always been<em>

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

I am in paradise, I can see that. These past almost three weeks should have been like heaven, I know that.

I hear her steps coming up behind me.

"It's so lovely here, isn't it, babe? This is absolutely all anyone could want, isn't it and this…" Her voice trails off and I see her hand make a vague gesture to the general view in front of us. "I could look at this forever… So gorgeous!"

"Of course it is, Princess" I answer automatically, not really with my heart in it, immediately feeling that little pang of guilt flying through me again. Her hand comes to rest lightly on my shoulder, completely naturally, completely as a wife would do… but as it lingers there a few moments longer I feel my muscles tense. I can't do anything about it and I curse myself for being so... weak when I know so well how it has to be. She feels it too, and as she takes her hand away again I sigh. I can't let myself keep doing that, but sometimes I can't seem to help it and those feelings of being awkward and wrong will start to bubble inside me again. I take a deep breath and shake my head a little to get rid of them. Once again.

I see, out of the corner of my eye, how she turns her head away from me and I can imagine the look in her eyes so clearly. I've seen it before. The disappointment, the insecurity… Guilt is threatening to suffocate me so I go for what I always go for. What I can do. The only safe thing I have, the only thing I know I can do.

"Not quite as beautiful as you, though…" I say sheepishly. At least that is true, she is beautiful. I look up at her and give her a little smile. Smiling, always smiling, as the doting husband I must be. The husband I am. It is real, I must remember that. I squeeze her hand a little as I try to make it up to her. Again. Soon I see a small return smile form on her face. For once the silence between her and me is rather comfortable, not filled with unasked questions, not filled with things no one wants to address. I look at her looking out over the ocean, taking in the spectacular view. Maybe now is the time to… But as I try to decide if it is, I'm interrupted.

"I have to go to that spa treat hour now… It'll be brilliant, I'm sure…" she says and then hesitates a little. "Sure you don't wanna join me… husband?" She's only half joking, something in her voice is pleading with me, and I feel my heart make a big thump.

"No, that was just for you…" I hate that I do this but I need to breathe for a while. I need to be alone, just for a few minutes. "You deserve to be spoilt with all the stress about the wedding before… and me being… sick and all, for the honeymoon… You need to treat yourself today… and I'll see you later."

She walks inside again, leaving me to my thoughts, and I feel like I've just escaped. Once again the guilt is there, the heavy feeling of it in my gut. Then I hear her close the door and leave. I take a couple of breaths and feel myself relax, for the first time in days it seems.

Because I know somewhere deep inside, in those parts of me where I keep what I can't think about, I can never fully relax. I just didn't know how it would feel, how tired it would make me. I know what I have to do, who I have to be, and I will, I absolutely will. There is no other choice and it's so automatic I hardly notice it anymore. But I'm so tired.

The excuses to avoid… everything… that I come up with are so blatantly obvious to me. I've used the long journey, tiredness after everything to do with the mehndi and the wedding… Only sometimes does it really sink in what I'm doing. I avoid looking too closely at that, in fact I do everything in my power not to think about that. I focus on what I need to instead. On what is going on here and now.

It's not like it is horrible all the time, it's not. It's… nice, I suppose. It's… appropriate. There's laughing together sometimes, chatting… like friends. Except usually you're not trying to hide almost everything going on inside you to the person supposed to be your closest friend. Usually you don't sometimes feel like you're looking at a complete stranger that knows nothing about you. Usually you don't have to lock everything inside you away and throw away the key. It's… quiet. And the quiet is dangerous, so I do what I have to, what I must to get from one moment to the next.

I look around and think once again that this is paradise. An absolute paradise, no question about it. The weather is fantastic, everything around me is achingly wonderful as I sit on the balcony, overlooking the ocean, gazing at the horizon. Everything is exactly as anyone would have imagined the ideal honey moon. And still, sometimes I just feel like I need to get out, I feel a panic that I don't always know what to do with.

But apart from the sheer beauty of this place, there are also lots of things to do, endless activities to fill the day with. And I have made sure all of them have been tried. I feel like such a cheater as I make sure Amira comes with me on one thing after another, or goes away to do things on her own, the outside distractions never ending, keeping busy, always keeping busy. I'll find myself listening along as she chatters away about someone she met, something she saw, something in a shop… a necklace… a skirt… a bracelet. And somewhere in all of that I can tell she's just as scared of the heavy silences as I am.

So now I have some time to myself, to get myself together, but the guilt I feel as I sense my own uneasiness is overwhelming. What am I doing? Doing to her? How am I ever going to make this work? Need not to think about that, I… just don't know. These thoughts are always in my head, never stop going around there. I have to keep them quiet. I will make it work, it's the only choice I have, isn't it? It is the way it is. How it's always been. I recognise this all too well. I have never had any choice, so I do it, like I've always done it.

I act like I am supposed to act, keep trying to be who I need to be. Always have and I do so now too. I try to tell the jokes, make her laugh, but sometimes I can't even remember if I told that particular joke before. It's like I step outside myself and I see how I do the right things, say what I'm supposed to say. Almost all of the time. Then again there are those other times. Times when the bubbles rise from that part of me that can't exist. Times when I remember the dreams. Times when I feel like I feel when _he_… Times when I _remember. _Times when I can feel myself coming dangerously close to simply exploding. When I just have to bend double with pure and utter pain and run into the bathroom and be sick.

The way I keep together is that I never allow myself to think too much. If I keep myself distracted, not thinking about what will happen later it will be alright. So I distract myself enough. Either that or I just disappear, not able to help myself. Any time of the day I can find myself being somewhere, doing something or even talking to Amira and I have no idea where I am, what I was going to do or what she's just said to me and what I'm supposed to answer. Every time it happens I just panic a little more.

I need time, more time, always more time. Time to sort things out, time to make this work. But very soon, I won't have it anymore, and I have no idea what to do then, what will happen then. I don't like thinking about that at all, I can only deal with short moments at a time. I lock everything like that into that little room inside my brain where I keep all the things I simply can't think about. And I close my eyes very deliberately to the fact that at some point I won't be able to keep that door closed anymore. I hear the ticking of the bomb even louder.

There have been hints about it already, there have been moments almost every day. I feel like such a traitor at those moments… those silent moments at night when no one can deny that something is not really as it should be. Those moments when I can't look into her eyes, when I can't let her look into mine, since my thoughts are anywhere but where they ought to be. And then either I or her shrink away from it, I give her a chaste little peck on her cheek and then turn around in bed or she strokes her fingers over my forehead, pushing a little bit of hair to the side and then goes quietly into the bathroom. I guess it's all only stalling the inevitable, the questions will have to be asked at some point, but no one is brave enough. And I know I just have to try harder, make more of an effort, take control of myself and not be weak. After all she is my wife, her well being is my duty. It's what I have to do, it's lives at stake here. I will make it work.

I feel like such a failure when I can give her no attention besides that any and all acquaintances could give her. I feel like such a cheater every time I see her, every time I pretend that this is normal, that this is how it's supposed to be. I can sense her confusion and I have seen her spend more and more time in the bathroom getting ready, a new and prettier outfit, a different way to put her hair up. And a more distant, questioning look in her eyes every day.

But as I sit here there is nothing stopping my mind from going to the one place it always goes to when I'm not checking it constantly. I know it's a disaster just waiting to happen.

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

_It seems so simple when I'm with him._

_He talks and I feel the connection so clearly, so unmistakably. I understand, I get it, I laugh at the right places, I find the right words to answer._

_He looks at me and I am precious. It's like I am the most beautiful, wonderful thing he has ever laid eyes on. It takes my breath away. He looks at me and I can actually feel the caress of his eyes on me, warm, caring like no one has ever cared before._

_He listens and I feel like I count. He leans forward when I talk, as if the stupid words I say are invaluable to him. Never have I felt like I matter to anyone as I matter to him. I can't get enough of it._

_He touches me and I am alive. One slow teasing stroke from his finger along my cheek, down my neckline, my chest and further down, the thrilling touch followed first by his lips and then the tip of his tongue, and I can feel how I start to glow, every fibre of my body set alight. One touch and I am his to do with what he wants. Excitement rises with the realisation I have when I look at him, when I let feathery fingertips and lips touch every last part of him… he is mine too._

_My heart races as I come to life under his touch, as I come to life touching him. Every part of me tingles and sizzles as I _know_… I know what I want, what I need…_

And then it's all shattered. Then reality comes and kicks me right in the gut and I know that it's only a dream, that it is a fantasy. That it can never come true. As it always has been, as I always have known. Dreams do not come true. Everything inside me aches as I realise that_._

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

"Babe… are you alright? You don't look too well…do you still feel sick…?"

For a few moments I have no idea where I am or whose voice that is talking to me. My heart is racing just as much as in my day dream, every single part of my body tingling. Honestly I had no idea I had been here for so long… so lost, lost in that place I can't go. It is not the first time her voice interrupts my feverish thoughts and I know I twitch noticeably as I try to compose myself to give her some kind of answer.

I tell her I'm feeling better, of course. The excuse of feeling ill is getting old, even though I know she heard me in the bathroom yesterday morning, waking up from yet another nightmare. At least that helped in the way that I'm not a complete and utter liar. All of the time.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" I ask her, trying to avoid any further questions without sounding as desperate as I actually am. " That restaurant by the…"

"Sure you're up to it, Syed?" she interrupts me, sounding a bit worried, looking questioningly at my face. "You're not really alright are you? You've just been sitting here for an hour now… And you're a bit pale… Maybe just staying in the suite tonight… have some…"

"No!" I say, way too fast, and I can see that hurt look again. "No… I'm alright… I don't want you to miss out on anything while you're here!"

"Yeah, I know… but I'd like to just be here with you, a whole night, just…"

"Got to make the most of it, though, right? Only a few days left and who knows if these kind of trips can happen any time soon?" I know it's a bit of a cheap shot but I'm hoping it'll work. I'm getting horribly used to making things like this up to her. "And you know, I'd love to see you in that really pretty blue and silver thing you found the other day… that was so beautiful, you'll be like a proper Princess." She is a little appeased with that and I can see how the thought of dressing up so beautifully, being the prettiest in any group of people she might be in tonight slowly puts a little smile on her face. I can give her that. At least that I can do for her. My stomach tightens in a knot as I think about the fact that it won't be enough. Very soon it won't be enough.

The automatic part of me takes over and I hear my voice say the things I need to say, see myself do what I have to do. Putting on another show. Every night is another show I have to get through, that she has to get through. And she doesn't even know it. I dress up and I leave with her at my arm. I see the reflection in the mirror of the elevator and I can see how good it looks, the perfect newlywed couple. And I smile. Smile at her, smile at the world, at everyone and anyone that might look. I know I can do this, I know I can be this. As long as you don't look too closely at the eyes. The eyes always tell.

But there simply is no other way. I know I must do what is right. I must do what I've promised to do, there is no alternative. It will be as it is supposed to be, it will be like it has always been before. There is no other way, this is how it is. I couldn't do anything else to her, to my mother and father, to Tam and Shabnam… and the new baby coming. I could never put them through that kind of shame, I could not. Son, brother, Muslim... That's just how it is. This is not about me and what I may want. I will make it work. I will. I have to.

_And then I feel him... touching me… Christian…_

This is hell. I am in hell.

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

**As always: thank you so much for reading. Hope you don't hate me too much... If you'd like to let me know what you thought about it, I'd be ever so grateful! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Once again, thanks all reading, favouriting, alerting and reviewing. It means a whole lot, I promise. Thank you all /xxx**

**And as always, LoveSy (;p) my dear, I don't think you know how valuable your thoughts and comments and encouragement are to me. They really are! Love ya!**

**We're back with Christian.**

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

_It's where my reason stops  
>And something else comes in<em>

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

_The darkness is threatening to drown me and I welcome it. There is nothing I want more right now than darkness. I want to see nothing, I want to disappear into it. Music is filling my head until there is nothing. No thoughts, no memories, only the heavy waves of the base pumping through me. I let it take over until there is room for no other feelings. I move to it, oblivious to everything and everyone around me._

_A little bit later, when I am back at the bar, downing my fifth drink in an hour, my head still way too clear and sober, I become the very essence of what I look to be, what I have purposely made myself. I am flashing cheeky, half-promising smiles at gazes directed at me, looking around to see which unimportant faces turn my way. I am, almost innocently, moving in just the way that shows my muscles flexing, making sure everyone sees it, taking my shirt off, leaving only a ridiculously tight t shirt on as I make it back to the dance floor. I know I am showing off. I know nothing has changed since yesterday or the day before that or before that, but I have to be here. I have to do whatever I can to fill my head with anything else. After all, this is what I do, this is who I am._

_Anything else was just an illusion._

_Letting the music fill me again it takes all the strength I can find to push away what I have to keep out. Any thought of the one who without ever asking saw more in me than this is banished. All reminiscing of eyes looking deeper than muscles and tan, straight at the heart, of ears listening beyond mindless chat and banter, hearing things not said anywhere but in the contented silence, __is forbidden. The silly thought that there could ever be more than _this_ not allowed. All of it banished, now and every night from now on. Tonight, I'm definitely not more than this._

_Noticing a few looks and glances and a couple of inviting smiles, some cute faces and fit bodies, I look a bit harder. I look and I try to find a spark of interest somewhere __within me, a chance to feel something else. But no. So I ignore them, just registering that they existed, not caring about them. Honestly I'm only waiting for the moment when I will stop remembering, stop feeling. I never stop chasing that moment, whatever way I can make it happen. _

_Every night it's the same thing._

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

Every day is exactly the same as the one before it. In a way I like it like that. It gives me control. It stops thoughts from wandering. It gives me something to hold on to when everything is slipping away. It gives me some sense of reason when I'm really only falling. Falling into that all too familiar feeling again. There's only emptiness, only nothingness, only loneliness, and no reasoning helps, I know that. I've known that for way too long. This is a feeling that can only be driven out by force. By distractions in whatever shape or form they might come. It's a pattern too well known to me but it's the one thing I have.

I've had to find new things distracting me now, since I can't go to Masala Queen anymore. It's pathetic, I know, but I had to leave. Never considered myself a quitter but I couldn't take any more of that. I have my pride. Not much else right now, but that I have.

Every morning, the first thing I do, is get out. Everything inside me yells at me to be out of there. No way can I stay in the flat a minute longer than absolutely necessary. Too quiet. Too empty. Too full at the same time. Full of the hurt of those first days. Full of everything I can't stand to think of. I need to not think, I need to feel another kind of pain and I know how I can make that happen. I seek out whatever gym I can find or I keep walking, running. I do whatever makes the heart race until it's at the point of exploding. I do whatever it takes to make the cold winter air burn in my throat and in my lungs, at last letting me feel nothing else. I like the cold, I like the darkness and I like the way I can make my body hurt. If I really try I might get to that moment when I finally let go of everything. The moment I feel only the pounding of my heart, the ache in my muscles turning into fire consuming everything else. So I do. Every day**.**

But that only lasts for so long. I need more. So every afternoon I am at the Vic helping Roxy out at the bar or just hanging out. It takes every ounce of strength to do it but it forces me to put that face on, of old Christian. So I do, always terrified someone will see the hollowness of it, afraid someone will ask me a question I can't avoid, can't answer. But I do it. I laugh, I chat with her, with anyone and everyone that's there. And it's OK, really, even fun at times. Wonder if they hear how fake it all still sounds, though. I can hear it myself, it's just slightly off key, but it's there. And every time I' m there I sense them all drifting away from me, moving further away. I always see and hear them from a distance. But it's distracting enough for my purpose.

Sometimes, when I'm not working, and when I can't stand it anymore I get drunk. Really, really drunk. Though I've found that that doesn't help much. Actually it makes it harder to keep control so I don't do drunk. That often. But I'm there, I'm always there. Showing off my perfect mask, trying to look like I think I used to, sound like I used to, be like I used to. Sometimes trying this hard makes me feel so exhausted, like I want to scream, but I don't think about that. I think about the noises instead, all the laughs and shouts surrounding me, the jokes that make me smile at times, almost but not completely drowning the sound of his voice in my head.

"Christian! I'm trying to talk to you!" This voice is familiar and welcome but drags me too abruptly out of my thoughts. "You never listen to me! So, what's up with the long face, then? Something's wrong?" I find myself back in reality with a thump. Reality being the Vic, and it's Roxy of course. And she wants to know, wants me to tell her what I never can. She'd pick this moment to be perceptive, naturally.

"What… I don't have a long face do I?" I mock pout at her, once again struggling to get the right tone of voice so she won't notice anything strange.

"You could eat off the floor without having to bend down, honey."

I probably could, I just didn't know it was that obvious. OK, so what's the normal response I'd have to that?

"Ouch, that hurts…" I continue the pouting thing, not able to think of anything cleverer to say. "I'm sensitive about my looks, and I'm a very fragile soul… Look, I was just thinking about…"

"Ah, that's your problem, see, right there." She sounds like she just solved world hunger or something. "A pretty boy trying to think is never a good idea…" Tilting her head she puts on her best fake concerned face.

"Watch your mouth or I'll wash it with soap for you, I am more than a pretty face thank you…" I answer automatically. "I have abs as well… Anyway, Rox, I was thinking that when I leave…"

"Yeah, I was going to talk to you about that, you quitter. How am I supposed to run this place without you here to help me, eh?"

"Oh, you'll be fine, you've got Chelsea… and… and it's just for a while…" I decide not to tell her that I haven't thought about just how long that while is going to be.

"But I need you here, Christian, no one flirts with the customers like you… no one brings in the money like you, you're a natural, babe… And you shouldn't dare to leave me when I need you here." From begging and pleading with puppy dog eyes to glaring at me sternly in under six seconds. That's a new personal best for her. But of course I can't say anything about why I'm really going. "Not that you're much use at the moment, though. Honestly, Christian, what's with the dark cloud hovering over you? Come on, I'm your friend, right, spill it now…"

Shit. She won't let it go, will she? I've got to get her off my back.

"It's nothing, babe, just a bit tired." I try to divert attention while still being vague enough to avoid questions. "There's a lot going on… Jane and Ian and the kids… and so much to do before I go…"

"Oh sure… that's a lie if I ever heard one, you're never tired, you've got more energy than Amy. Something's up, so tell us then! It's some guy isn't it..? " She looks at me expectantly, hoping for some juicy gossip. I can see real interest and concern in her eyes too, but I shake my head slightly. "OK, OK, forget it… But why are you leaving now anyway? So quickly? You never even told me you planned to go…You've got to tell me these things!"

"I'm just seeing mum and dad, it's been ages… By the way, since when do I have to report everything I do to you, bossy?" I say trying one of those smiles I almost manage. "It was an impulse decision, babe, and you know, I have to take every opportunity. I might be wrinkled and ugly next time I get the chance to go, and there's no way I'm getting any pretty American boys then…"

Oh god, it actually physically hurts doing this, trying to be who she thinks I am. My face aches from trying to smile, my throat aches from trying to banter as usual, my head aches from trying to always keep two steps ahead, thinking about what Christian would do or say.

"Yeah, yeah, fishing for compliments now are we… OK then…" She raises an eyebrow and sighs dramatically. "Christian Clarke, you're gorgeous and god-like, no long face, can have any bloke you like, you're looking not a day over 27 and blah blah blah… You should try to get a tan though, you're really pale…" she finishes and sticks her tongue out at me. Laughing at my unimpressed face she gives me a kiss and is off again. I smile, she is a good friend, she's trying, and I love her for that, I really do. But now she has to leave and I'm just left standing here again. _Any bloke…_ yeah, that stung**. **

As I see Roxy leave I feel relieved and sad at the same time. Relieved that I don't have to pretend anymore, that I've yet again avoided revealing anything. A little sad that no one sees what's actually wrong. Not that anyone could ever be allowed to. It's just that for a while I could let myself do it, I could let someone in, let someone see. For a little while someone actually was interested. There was someone who saw through all the crappy defenses I put up, picked up on my moods, my thoughts and wouldn't let it go if he could help in any way. There was someone who wanted to do that, someone who got me, the real me. That's over now.

Nothing left to do but leave then, I guess. I don't work tonight, Roxy just left and I can't stand being at some club, I know it won't work this time, I can feel it. That moment when I forget won't come tonight. Desperately thinking of anything to keep me occupied I come up blank. Slowly I drag myself back, already dreading the rest of the evening. Dreading everything.

Every night I'm out, otherwise. I stay at the Vic or I go to whatever club, anywhere, where no one knows who I am and won't ask anything. I'll do anything to stay out of the flat, really. Everything there just reminds me and now I can hardly stand the place. So I'm almost never there.

At one point I thought I'd never leave again, that I'd be happy to stay locked in there forever. But when Jane came... I hated it at the time, but now I am grateful to her for dragging me to Masala Queen. It brought me out of that bubble I made for myself. Brought me out kicking and screaming, sure, but still, I saw that I couldn't stay there any longer. By the time Jane barged in and forced me out I'd started to feel suffocated. Everything was closing in on me, trapping me, leaving me no room. I'd never felt like that before.

It wasn't like last time I couldn't go out, when I couldn't make myself face the outside world. That time when I saw only the hate and the violence outside and I felt like I'd never see anything sweet or lovely ever again. I could only see the dark. I could only hear the taunting, feel the loathing, the pain. It was the loneliest I'd felt in so many years. But then he was there. He was absolutely amazing. For some reason he knew exactly what to do, what to say. He got through all the darkness. My flat had been taken over by the ugliness and the hate but it seemed beautiful and full of care and comfort when he was there. Him being there, being with me, healed what was broken, somehow. It was my haven, my sanctuary. Now it's not. Now I can only see him not being there, not hear his voice there, not feel the warmth of him there and it makes it difficult to even breathe. I will have to find another place to hide. And this is the way I've chosen to do it.

The place doesn't need a name, it's unimportant, just as long as it's as far away as possible from any memories. As long as it's loud enough. As long as it's dark enough. That's not too much to ask? Yet it never seems to work completely. I have reasoned with myself, I have told myself countless times what I need to do, so why can't I do it and just leave this behind? There are times when I think I'm doing better, when I think I've done it.

It used to be so easy. I used to know the game so well, play it just for the thrill, no matter what the consequences were. Some were pretty horrible, but there were times when I simply didn't care… and I don't care much now. Now I'm flirting with whatever guy that has caught my eye that time and who seems interested enough. I might even laugh if he's funny or look at him and say to myself that he's really fit. Like the other night there was this guy.

_David, I think his name was. He was blonde, had bright grey eyes I think. I know he was interested, I saw the looks he gave me, eyes roaming over my body. I felt his breath, felt his hands as I let him come closer. Never looked into my eyes… never asked anything about me that mattered… Not that I cared much that he didn't, I was used to that. It felt familiar, I knew how to do that. _

_I follow him out and I know what he expects, what anyone would expect from someone like me. I expect it from myself. As he turns to me I know what he will ask, and I know what he thinks I'll answer. So I open my mouth to say it. And then it comes, that moment. The moment when I don't see the face of this David any more. I can give myself so many logical reasons why I shouldn't feel this way, why I shouldn't react like this anymore. But I do. I don't see David's eyes, hair, smile anymore but someone else's. _His_. I see it so clearly I could swear he was there. I can't tell the difference between my thoughts and what's real anymore and it's unbelievably scary. I think I might actually be going insane. And then I leave. Then I run. _

I unlock the door as I'm at the flat at last. Long empty hours ahead of me, needing to be filled. I bet there is something to do with the trip I can do. I try to think of something to do that I haven't already tried, haven't already checked four times.

**c-s-c-s-c-s**

Only a couple of days later it's time. Those days have been just like the ones before them. An endless quest to fill myself with anything other than what my life has become. Avoiding Jane's worried concerns. She thinks I'm crazy going away like this, she thinks I'm giving up my life, and I haven't even told her that I don't know exactly how long I'm going to stay away for. And perhaps I'm not giving up my life, maybe this is how my life was supposed to be all along and the life I've had here for the past two years was the anomaly. A dream you have to wake up from sooner or later.

Then there is Lucy, of course. Lucy's well-meaning questions about everything and her loyalty and care are getting to me and I can't deal with that now, so I avoid her too. I love her so much but I can't expect her to understand and I certainly couldn't lay the whole thing on her. It wasn't easy to say goodbye to them, but it was necessary. There is no way I can stay. This is for the better, I'm better off away, and they are certainly better off without me here.

It should start to feel better now that I'll leave everything behind, it should start getting easier. It has to. It's never been like this before. I've never felt this hunted down, this haunted and falling, always falling, nothing to hold on to. Getting away will help, I'm sure it will.

As the plane takes off I lean back and close my eyes. I feel a little relief, even if I'm going to miss them all very much. Despite everything I feel a little excitement. I am taking charge, doing something and that feels good. Almost everyone I know has moved on from me, left, kicked me away. This time I'm moving my life along on my own accord, I'm doing something about it**.** It's only for a couple of weeks as it is planned now, but something tells me this part of my life is over. I can only hope something new is beginning. This is the sensible thing to do. I am sure. I am. Really.

So why do I have that burning feeling behind my eyes?

**c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s**

**Thank you for being with me all the way here. If you'd like to leave me your thoughts about it, I'd be ever so grateful ;D**


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